


Promises To Keep

by straightforwardly



Category: Cinders (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/F, Misses Clause Challenge, Post-Canon, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-03 00:37:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2831765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/straightforwardly/pseuds/straightforwardly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cinders needs advice. The Fairy needs to be remembered. </p><p>Or, how the Fairy became Queen Cinders' adviser.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Promises To Keep

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moogle62](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moogle62/gifts).



Cinders steps lightly through the woods, cradling a silk-wrapped bundle in her arms. The fallen leaves forge a path of red and gold before her, and the air is cold, far too cold for autumn; it cuts into her throat with each breath. 

The lake shimmers as she steps out into the clearing, the sunlight glinting off of the water.

She places the bundle under the tree where, not many months before, she had left her flower wreath, and waits. 

She'd baked the bread with her own hands, though the servants had huddled in a corner and whispered at the sight of a queen, kneading dough with hands dusted with flour. Once it came out of the oven, fresh and hot, she'd wrapped it in a square of silk, cut from the back of the first dress Basile had ever had made for her.

Every good offering requires a sacrifice.

* * *

The Fairy appears beneath the tree, in the sudden moment between one eye blink and the next. She stands, tall and imperious, her opaque eyes fixed on Cinders. She does not even glance at the bundle of bread, though Cinders does not doubt that she knows it is there. 

She looks just as Cinders remembers. Her skin glitters, as though it were dusted with starlight, and everything about her is pale, nearly transparent.

Everything, except for the soft red of her mouth. 

Cinders trembles to see her. 

"You have returned," the Fairy observes, and her voice echoes with the weight of many throughout the clearing. 

Cinders wipes her palms discreetly on her skirts, and for the first time she regrets the loss of her simple cotton rags, if only because silk does not absorb sweat. "Yes." Then, gathering her courage, she says, "I've come for some advice."

The Fairy, her face impassive, watches her. "Continue."

Cinders outlines the situation quickly and concisely. The letter from Basile's informant, reporting on one of the kingdom's southern neighbors. The amassing of supplies. The suspicious disappearance of the military from the public view. The strange juxtaposition of the inaction of the court and the queen. 

How the informant suspects an upcoming invasion, but isn't sure. How, if their informer's right in his suppositions, they would need to move quickly— and how, if he's wrong, acting could destroy one of their most beneficial alliances. 

Her own uncertainty about what path they should take in response.

"And I thought if anyone knows the truth of what's going on, it'd be you," Cinders concludes. 

She doesn't need to wait long for the response.

"We care not for the concerns of mortal kingdoms," the Fairy intones.

"I care," Cinders says before she can think about it. "And I'm your link to this world, aren't I?"

The Fairy's eyes flash. "The Concord has already been made."

"But that's not all that you need, is it?" 

It's only a guess, but the sudden silence from the Fairy is enough to tell her that she's right— or at least on the right track. Encouraged, Cinders presses on. 

"Help me," she says, "and I'll help you."

"You _dare_ make demands of us?" The Fairy's voice is very soft. 

Cinders shivers. "Not a demand. An offer."

The Fairy is silent for a moment, her gaze fixed on her. She stands still— not even a single eyelash flutters. Were she a mortal creature, Cinders would think her dead.

She finds that she cannot look away.

"You know nothing of what we require."

The words settle in Cinders' bones. She swallows.

"Perhaps not," she allows, and it is here she finds that she needs to pause, to take a moment to cast away her pride. Being queen has given her independence, power, and it has been easy, easier than she would have ever thought possible, to forget what it was like to be powerless, to rely on another. She closes her eyes, briefly, and speaks. "But I need your help. And I know you have the power to give it."

"The Concord has been sealed. We have given aid. We are not obliged to do more," the Fairy says. "There will be another Price." 

It sounds like a warning.

She has already taken the Fairy's aid before. She has sealed the Concord, has already agreed to pay that Price, whatever it may be. 

Perhaps it is foolish of her, but she does not think there is much further to fall.

The Fairy has not stopped looking at her, has not taken her eyes off of her for a moment. It makes her skin break out into goosebumps. It makes her heart flutter horribly. 

Cinders takes a few hesitant steps forward; this close, she can see the faint outline of the pupils in the Fairy's eyes. The Fairy does not move, not even when Cinders gathers her courage to lean forward and finally press her mouth to those pale red lips.

She'd half-expected the Fairy to feel cold, hard. But she doesn't. Her mouth is soft against Cinders' own, and warm. 

It isn't an offer, a deal. That would be far too simple. No, this is because of _want_ , and cold water rushes through her veins when Cinders realizes this. 

Cinders wants to touch her, to tangle her fingers in her hair and bury herself in that glittering stardust skin, but she doesn't, because the Fairy still has not yet moved, and Cinders is— she doesn't know what the Fairy will do. 

When Cinders pulls away, she sees something she has never seen before in the Fairy's eyes: genuine emotion.

She thinks it might be surprise.

The Fairy raises her hand, touches her fingertips to her mouth, and it is the most human gesture Cinders has ever seen from her. 

"Your new Price," Cinders begins.

"It is not ours," the Fairy corrects her before Cinders can say a word more. Her hands fall to her sides, and she is still once more, as tranquil as any lake. "It simply is."

Cinders makes a quick, impatient gesture. She can't quite keep her eyes off of the Fairy's mouth. The thought makes her hands tremble; she can't tell if it's from fear or desire. 

She speaks quickly, before she can think about it. "Either way. I accept it. I will pay it."

The Fairy smiles, and it is bright and terrifying and beautiful beyond anything Cinders has ever imagined.

* * *

Later, when Cinders returns to the palace, she seeks out Basile and says, "We don't need to worry. There will be no invasion."

She is right.


End file.
